


A Rock and a Hard Place

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-17
Updated: 2006-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two lost leaders find hope in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [selenay_x](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=selenay_x).



> Date: 11-17 June 2006  
> Word Count: 1288  
> Summary: Two lost leaders find hope in each other.  
> Spoilers: Thru the BSG Season 2 finale "Lay Down Your Burdens, Part 2" & post-season finale for Voyager  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Frisked & Conquered  
> Link to: <http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/>  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. "Star Trek: Voyager," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Paramount Television, Viacom, and United Paramount Network. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," "Star Trek: Voyager," SciFi, UPN, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
> 
> Ficathon Notes: This was written for [](http://selenay-x.livejournal.com/profile)[**selenay_x**](http://selenay-x.livejournal.com/) for the [](http://femslash-today.livejournal.com/profile)[**femslash_today**](http://femslash-today.livejournal.com/)[ Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines](http://community.livejournal.com/femslash_today/17531.html) ficathon. Her choices were as follows:
> 
> request one: Battlestar Galactica  
>  pairing: Roslin/Cain  
>  NC17: yes  
>  squicks: cutesy  
>  prompt: Pre series - they knew each other
> 
> request two: Babylon 5  
>  pairing: Delenn/Talia  
>  NC17: yes  
>  squicks: cutesy  
>  prompt: Talia discovers Delenn likes girls
> 
> request three: Battlestar Galactica/Voyager  
>  pairing: Roslin/Janeway  
>  NC17: yes,  
>  squicks: cutesy  
>  prompt: two lost leaders
> 
> Author’s Notes: When I first got this assignment, I was giddy with excitement. I had several possibilities for all three requests. I'd originally settled on looking into some B5 research to do the Delenn/Talia pairing. That quickly fell through. Then I considered the Roslin/Cain, but couldn't come up with the right angle that would allow for the animosity we saw in Season 2.
> 
> And then, I got this great idea for the Roslin/Janeway pairing. I planned to do a holodeck fantasy, where Janeway was in the BSG universe instead of either Cain or Adama [I hadn't really decided], but that she was able to test out command decisions within that universe before coming to her own crew. I was really excited about this…and then my muses told me to frak off and headed off to Bora-Bora for a vacation. And then the deadline was looming over me, and the [FemSlash Advent Calendar :: Dog Days of Summer 2006](http://fsac.shatterstorm.net/sum2006/) was upon me, and I still had this story to go.
> 
> And then my muses decided to be kind…and gave me this. I certainly hope my recipient likes it...
> 
> Dedication: The Grail, for helping me out when no one else would… *g*
> 
> Beta: [](http://shatterpath.livejournal.com/profile)[**shatterpath**](http://shatterpath.livejournal.com/), as usual

Title: A Rock and a Hard Place  
  


The knock at my door startled me. I hadn't been expecting anyone, and certainly didn't normally get visitors just dropping by whenever they felt like it. The fleet didn't live like that. Then again, things had changed drastically once Baltar had declared we'd settle on the planet.

New Caprica.

What the frak kind of name was that? Okay, I understood the theory behind it. The last remnants of humanity needed some sort of stability, some hope for the future. But it wasn't this damnable barren rock. Little grew here naturally; the winds were far too strong for far too many months; the resources simply weren't adequate to sustain us for long. But would anyone listen? Of course not. They wanted their Elysian Fields, their Paradise. They wouldn't listen to reason.

Not even the rebels would listen. All they wanted was to overthrow the Cylon occupation. They had only themselves and their "beloved" president Baltar to thank for that. If no one had decided to settle on this frakking rock, we wouldn't be under the metallic, sadistic thumb of the Cylons.

Another knock at the door, this time sounding more urgent, brought me back to the present. It wasn't like there was much I could do to change history, was there? I stood and wrapped my sweater more tightly around my body as I walked across the room to the door. There was a brief pause as I wondered just where Maya was, as she'd left with Isis hours earlier to visit Cally Tyrol.

"Madame President?" The hushed voice startled me at first in the waning light.

"I haven't been called that in over a year or more now," I replied caustically and started to close the door. "Keep your bootleg-drinking games to yourself, won't you?"

"Wait!" It was accompanied by a hand on the door. I recognized the thumb ring instantly.

"Starbuck?" I asked, surprised to see her drinking again. She'd told me she'd quit back when Sam had died from the pneumonia. She'd also told me in no uncertain terms that I was a coward for not openly leading the rebellion…or taking back the position that was rightfully mine, since Baltar was president in name only and a slave to his vices. "What are you doing here?"

"You need to come with me," she replied, sounding far more sober than I'd given her credit for. I was beginning to see the feisty young pilot I'd adored and relied on when we were a space-faring people. "We've got a visitor…"

That certainly got my attention and I tightened my grip on the door unconsciously, thoughts of Maya and Isis in danger. "A visitor?" And then I remembered the muted boom we'd heard within the last hour.

"A small vessel about the size of a raptor, but bulkier. It dropped in from FTL all of a sudden, nearly took me out in the process of the crash. It looks…archaic and futuristic at the same time." I quirked a brow at her description and she smiled sheepishly, scrubbing at the back of her neck. "It's hard to describe; you just need to see it."

"And I assume you need me there for a reason as opposed to informing Mr Gaeta and President Baltar?" The words were bitter in my mouth, even after a year and more. I'd accepted that the vote rigging had been found out. But I couldn't accept that the traitorous Gaius Baltar was perverting the responsibilities of being President of the Twelve Colonies.

"There were two people aboard the vessel, ma'am," she continued. "Two women. And I'll eat a raptor if that one isn't somehow a Cylon, though they both swear up and down she's not."

"That's still not a good enough reason for me to be required, Starbuck," I snapped back, growing weary of this cat and mouse game Kara Thrace was playing. "Either say what you came to, or go the frak back to the bottle, _Captain_."

She flinched at the use of her title, but it seemed to galvanize her flagging spirit. "I'd sooner die than hand them over to that frakking bastard," she growled. "Ma'am, I _talked_ to them. They're not from the colonies. The words on their ship were -- I could read what it said. Maybe we can salvage something from that ship, or make them take us back to where they came from."

"And leave the rest of these people here to die?" I queried curiously. "That doesn't sound like you, Kara Thrace."

"And you being such a frakking wallflower isn’t like you, either," she snapped back. "You used to be the bravest, strongest woman I knew. Once your cancer was cured and you lost the election, you just faded into nothing. You're a frakking coward and no better than Baltar is."

Before I realized it, my hand snaked out and left a livid red handprint on her pale cheek. And then it hit me. The adrenaline of it raced through my blood, bringing what I knew would be a flush of energy to my face. I felt _alive_ , for perhaps the first time since we'd been stuck on this frakking rock. Starbuck's words sank in on the heels of that revelation.

"Where is this crash of yours?" I asked, purposely forcing myself not to reach over and touch her marked face. Her face lit up with the old fire I remembered…and wanted for so long. "If this ends up being some drunken wild goose chase, I'll personally hand you over to the Cylons as the head of the rebellion."

Impulsively, she grabbed my hand and began leading me out of the tent, out of this gods-forsaken shanty town, and out into what passed for "the great forest." If it weren't for her unflagging determination, I wouldn’t have followed her so closely. That, and my admitted curiosity.

As we broke through the tree line, I saw it. And nearly laughed aloud. Starbuck had been exactly correct. The vessel did look both archaic and futuristic. If I squinted hard enough in the waning light, I could make out the words on its side. Such clunky, sterile, mechanical lettering. _U.S.S Voyager Sacajawea_. Whatever that meant.

Coming closer, I noticed the two women. What a striking pair. Tall, statuesque blonde in what looked to be silver paint. I knew it had to be material, but I'd never seen anything that skintight in all my life. The shoes she was wearing made my own legs hurt, based solely on the height. The briefest flash of light arced from her left temple. How curious…

She moved toward us at Starbuck's excited shout of, "I told you I'd come back." The movement gave me the opportunity to study the blonde's companion. Smaller, definitely more compact, and I could see the mantle of steely, determined leadership about her shoulders. She watched us warily, all the while wearing a warm smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.

Starbuck was talking rapidly with the blonde, whose eyes were darting between the strange redhead and myself occasionally. She finally nodded to the redhead, almost imperceptibly, and I had to wonder which of them really was in charge. Only it was a fleeting thought; the minute the redhead moved toward us, I knew where the true leadership lay. She stopped mere feet in front of me and began to study me more closely. I couldn't fault her, as I was doing the same in return.

After a long moment, I stuck out my hand. "Laura Roslin," I said in my best presidential voice. "It would appear we have much to discuss."

Her face broke into an easy grin as she shook my hand firmly. "Kathryn Janeway. It would appear we do."


End file.
